Forbidden
by Pennyblue-eyes
Summary: Tsk, we're getting lazy! Keep the reviews up! The s***s hit the fan now, at least on Draco's side...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K Rowling. I am not J.K Rowling. Happy?  
  
Author's Note: Just explaining, *** *** *** means change of character, and * * * means change of time. Oh, and rated about M for language. Plus set in 6th Year.  
  
"Forbidden"  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"- and by thunder boy, you'll be watching yourself or you won't see your next birthday! Do you understand?!"  
  
Draco Malfoy stared sullenly at his father. God only knew what he'd done this time, it could be anything. All he klnew for sure was that it involved a Mudblood. But that could have ranged from buying anything to looking at one the wrong way.  
  
Something made Draco angry and restless. "You can't stop me!" he shouted, before running to his room. He stormed up the Manor stairs, shutting his door just as something riccochaid off it. He grimaced. Now this was serious. His father had never attempted to curse him before.  
  
He still felt reckless, but he wasn't angry anymore; he was furious. He was just a touch unseasy as well. But at the moment all he wanted to do was anger his father so much that Malfoy Snr. would just - just explode. Actually, stuff that. He wanted the whole WORLD mad at him. He wanted to stand up in front of them all and scream, "Look at me, you morons! I am my own freaking person, not the son of the best Death Eater or the head of the Slytherins! Look at me, you bastards!"  
  
How could he make the whole world sit up and notice? He smiled thinly. Who cared? As long as his father forbade it, and the "good" side forbade it, it could work. His smile changed to a frown as he thought. Something forbidden . . .  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Hermione sat in her armchair, a book in her lap. She wasn't looking at it currently, she was staring into space.  
  
Her room was in irregular chaos. Her spellbooks were stacked untidily by her trunk, and her robes were draped accross the foot of her bed. She'd been attempting to pack when she'd run across the old book in her cupboard. It wasn't a real book, just a silly little notebook she'd scribbled in during her First Year. She'd filled it with bits of poetry and proverbs:  
  
'Don't frown, you never know who is falling in love with your smile -'  
  
'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways -"  
  
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder -'  
  
Yeah, Hermione thought. Familiarity breeds contempt? No way. She sighed. Ron.  
  
She'd only bowed to the inevitable sparks of attraction between them a few months ago. It had felt like a part of her was returning, a prrt she had never known existed. Oh, god. Now she was getting sappy. Help!  
  
Luckily, perhaps, her thoughts were interuppted by a knock at the door. "Come in," she managed.  
  
"Hermione, get the door honey. My hands are full." Mrs. Granger's voice came from outside her room. Hermione jumped up obidiently to let her mother in. Mrs. Granger came through the door with two cups of hot chocolate, most probably sugar free.  
  
"Thought you might want a drink and some company," she said, taking in the jumbled belongings around her daughter's school trunk. "Shouldn't you have packed?"  
  
"Oh - yes," Hermione replied, taking the offered mug of chocolate. "But I'm just - distracted."  
  
"Missing Ron?" her mother asked gently. Hermione nodded slowly. "But you'll see him tomorrow."  
  
"I know. But I wasn't expecting him not to be home at all. I knew Harry was staying all holidays, and that Ron was spending the first month away, but I had no idea he'd change his plans and go to school early. By the time I got his owl, the Hogwarts Express had already left. I wish I'd known it went two weeks early for school Prefects."  
  
"Well, you can't blame him. Harry is like a brother to him. And after seeing that brother of his in Romania, what was it - Chuckie?"  
  
"Charlie," Hermione corrected. "Works with dragons." She sipped her drink. Then she jumped up guiltily as her mother moved and started packing her trunk. "Oh, mum, don't. I should be doing that."  
  
"You should," her mother agreed, carefully packing Hermione's robes on top of her books. "But right now I want you to brush your teeth and go to bed. You'll be late tomorrow otherwise, and I know you'll just hate that."  
  
Hermione stuck her tongue out at her mother but laughed. It was true, she reflected as she made her way to the bathroom. I would hate that.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco sat moodily on the train as it neared Hogsmeade. Crabbe and Goyle had been rejected just after they left London, because their personalities were about as lively as a rock's and all they could talk about were the Dark Circles they'd attended with their fathers. And Pansy - ugh. She had a face like a pug dog and thought everything he did was just wonderful. Normally he enjoyed their attention. Now he needed to be alone.  
  
He hiked up the collar of his jumper. He didn't want anyone to see the bruises. His father had taken him aside at Kings Cross just before Disapparating and murmured, "I'm warning you now, remember boy. . ." squeezing Draco where his shoulder joined his neck, making him wince with pain. Now there was the evidence to show his father despised him. And he was ashamed. Why did his father despise him? Was it because he wasn't evil enough?  
  
He jumped up and decided to do the one thing that made him truly happy. Irritating Potter, Weasley, and Granger.  
  
The compartment door slammed as he took out his bad temper on it.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Hermione was deeply immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, when she became aware of someone at the doorway. She was sitting by herself, moping about not seeing Ron until dinner. Furious to have her bad mood captured, she loked up angrily.  
  
"What do you - oh," she said, her voice changing to loathing and disgust. "What do you want, Malfoy."  
  
"Been rejected?" he asked sneeringly. "Potty and Weasel too good for little Mudblood Granger? Not surprised. Nasty things, bookworms. Wouldn't go near one myself."  
  
"I'm warning you -"  
  
"Poor little Mudblood with no friends. Well, I'm warning you. Now you'll start to pay for that insult in fourth year!" he jeered. Oh, that did it. Hermione jumped up and took out her wand.  
  
"Fuck off!" she screamed. "I've had it up to here with you! Get the hell away from me!" She snapped. Before he got any warning, she'd cast her spell.  
  
"Impedimenta!" Malfoy froze. She kicked him out into the corridor a few metres away from her compartment, adding a couple to the family jewels for the sake of spite. Good, hard ones to. Hope it hurts when he wakes up, she smirked. She strode away without a backward glance.  
  
* * *  
  
Malfoy was fine by the Welcoming Feast. He kept shooting Granger funny looks, as if shocked that she'd dare to curse him - again. He'd given her fair warning. And his - his - things still hurt to. She'd obviously kicked him there a couple of times. He tried to concentrate on Dumbledore's voice. But things you don't like - like things you're not interested in - are hard to listen to. He gave up and continued eating his chocolate pudding. He could see Granger was shooting him a few looks, some intermingled with horror. Well, that was good, he thought grimly. She would pay for that one - and the one they'd all been in on at the end of fourth year. How dare she?!  
  
Well, she'd be the first to pay when the whole world sat up to take notice. Noticing everyone else leave the Slytherin table, he got up to - but didn't head for the dungeons with his peers. He turned left and headed up a staircase - the one that led to the library, and, though he didn't know it, the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Passing the library, he found what he wanted: a deserted classroom. He'd found it last year, when he had to get away from the stifling atmosphere of the Slytherins. He could just sit there, and brood into the fire. He lit it now, watching the flames crackle up. He sat down in front and made shapes. People. A guy of some sort, animals like dogs, and a girl with long flame hair. He became entranced after a few mintues, and leaned closer, forgetting everything.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Ron hadn't been at dinner! Hermione raced up seven sets of stairs to reach the Gryffindor common room. She paused for a few seconds to check her hair in the mirror, and satisfied, she went up to the boys dorms. She was just about to know when she heard their voices, deep in serious discussion by the sounds of things. She leaned closer.  
  
"Anyway, Charlie took me to about twenty clubs over the holidays," Ron was saying. "But the best part about Romania, well you can guess."  
  
"You can have alcohol at your age!" Seamus yelled.  
  
"The food," Neville said.  
  
"Oh, give up all of you. I'll tell you. All the gorgeous Romanian chicks, just dying to get with you. I don't know how many I hooked up with," Ron boasted. Hermione felt as if someone had just doused her with icy water. He hadn't!  
  
"He did," Harry said. "Which is so not fair to Hermione..." There was a general sound of agreement.  
  
"You have to tell her, ron," Dean said angrily.  
  
"I can't!" Ron burst out. "She'll drop me like a brick."  
  
"You deserve it," Neville said grimly. "Tell her."  
  
Hermione had had enough. "no need," she sang out, walktzing into the room. She stared at Ron. "Please," she whispered painfully. "Tell me it isn't true."  
  
Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I can't," he muttered. Hermione stared for a second, then turned. She forgot about everything except how to make her legs work. She ranout of the portrait hole, not heeding the Fat Lady's call as she dashed the tears away.  
  
Damn him! The bastard! Oh, all guys were the same. She stoppped suddenly, bewildered. She was in some part of the school she'd never entered. She found what looked like a disused classroom and went in. There was a fire in the grate. Surprising. But, oh no...  
  
The person in front of the fire, staring with anger and menace and surprise and fear. The last person she expected or wanted to see. Malfoy.  
  
"Oh, shit!" she cried dazedly.  
  
Author's Note: Reviews are most welcome and appreciated. =P 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine  
  
Chapter 2.  
  
Draco and Hermione stared at each other. Draco recovered from the shock first.  
  
"It would have been better if you had have said 'Oh, my God!'," he said lazily. "Much more accurate."  
  
Hermione's nerves were already at breaking point. She recovered enough to say tartly, "No, I'm pretty sure I was right in saying oh shit."  
  
Draco's eyes glinted with something like approval. She was obviously angry, he noted, but there was something beyond that. Sadness, a feeling that she'd been manipulated somehow. Hmmm. But why did he care? She was Granger, she was Potter and Weasley's best friend, and she was a Mudblood. But there was something there . . . a determination to go down with all guns blazing.  
  
But why was she going down? He hadn't started on her - yet. "What's wrong?" he asked in a drawl. "Scared of me, hey?" he moved closer and tipped her face so the firelight reflected off it. Suddenly he dropped his hand in surprise.  
  
Tears. She'd been crying. Something twisted inside of him - a sense of shock mingled with satisfaction. So something could touch nerves-of-steel- only-show-angry-emotions Granger. Something could make her sad.  
  
"What happened?" he asked quietly.  
  
Hermione stared at him. Yeah, right. Like she was going to tell self- obsessed-jerk-off-in-love-with-Pansy Malfoy. Whatever.  
  
"Like I'm going to tell you, you son of a bitch." she snapped. She dashed away the tears that still lurked around her eyes.  
  
"Actually, you've seen my mother, and she's human." he replied easily. Hermione glared. She'd be willing to dipute that, but she had seen his mother, and she was human.  
  
"Like I care. Go away. Now!" she snapped when he hesitated. He turned, and she saw a smile play over his thin lips.  
  
"Actually, I was here first. So you'll just have to cope - or you can leave, but either way, I'm staying. It doesn't bother me."  
  
He looked so smug and - and - snobby that Hermione gasped. "You arrogant, conceited bastard!" she choked, starting to cry again.  
  
Draco looked at her. She was crying again. Hmmm. "No, actually. My parents were married. You know, you never did tell me what was wrong."  
  
"I'm not going to," she snapped. Ok then. Change of plan.  
  
"Then I'll guess." She flinched, but Draco kept going. "Ok. It's something to do with Potter and Weasley is my first guess." She loked even worse, so he decided that he was right. "Weasley is my second, since you two were an item."  
  
"Were," she whispered. Aha!  
  
"Ron ditched you," he guessed finally.  
  
"No," she said dully. "Ron cheated on me. I ditched him."  
  
Hermione had about five seconds to register her astonishment. She had just told Malfoy (Oh God!)of all people. But he was looking just as astonished as her. Whether he hadn't explected her to tell him or that Ron would cheat on her, she didn't know. She stared at him defiantly for as long as she could, but eventually it all became to much for her. She omved carefully and sat by the fire, far enough away to keep him at a distance, bbut close enough to get warm She'd only just noticed how cold the castle was. When she chanced a half glance up, he was still staring at her. She buried her face in her knees.  
  
"How?" Malfoy asked finally.  
  
"What does it matter to you?" Hermione asked scathingly. "You've spent five years calling me, Harry and Ron names and now you just want me to forget and tell you everything, which would probably end up in the Slytherin common room anyway!"  
  
"Look, I don't care what you think," Malfoy said finally. His mind was whirling. At last! Here was something forbidden by everyone! His father would kill him - quite literally - if he became friends with a Mudblood, and Potter and Weasley wouldn't wait for an opportunity to smash his face in if he was nice to Granger! But he had to be careful about it.  
  
"Well, I do." God, she was stubborn.  
  
"Once again, Hermione, I don't. Now tell me, or I'll do something you really won't like." he threatened.  
  
He could see her shock. He'd never called her by name before, and mixing it with a threat had scared her. She stared into the fire.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Ok, Ok," she gave in. "I'll tell you. Ron went to visit Charlie in the holidays. Obviously in Romania the rules are a lot less strict, so he had access to a lot of clubs. That's where he met all those 'gorgeous Romanian chicks' I suppose," her voice was full of a bitterness that he'd never noticed before. "He was bragginh to the others when I got there. Lost track of how many he got with. Jerk." her tale finished, she buried her face in her knees again. "How could he?' she asked, voice muffled by her robes. "I trusted him!"  
  
"Don't know why," Draco said. "I mean really. You knew what he was like."  
  
"No, I didn't. And what do you mean by that?"  
  
"I don't know." he grinned at her. "Just trying to make you feel better."  
  
"Malfoy -"  
  
"You could call me Draco."  
  
"Draco, then." she amended. "We are not friends. We are supposed to be enemies. You can't just act like we're best buddies or something."  
  
"But I'd like to be friends, Hermione," he said seriously, searching her eyes. All the while he was thinking, come on, take the bait. I need you to do this...  
  
"How can I trust you?" she asked finally.  
  
"Give me a day," he replied. "Look at it this way: I know stuff that could really spread. As it is, the Gryffindors will spread it around to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But nobody would tell the Slytherins. So, if they've all found out by tomorrow, it was me. If they haven't, you'll know I've kept my mouth shut."  
  
"Yes, but you could tell them not to say anything," Hermione replied. god, this girl had an anwer for everything. It was no wonder she was the leader of their little group. Nobody could win an argument against her.  
  
"Have you ever tried to get Pansy to shut up about anything? Or Blaise Zabini? God, one of the requirments for Slytherin should be a big mouth. You can't shut a Slytherin up unless you are the one you want to shut up."  
  
"Well..." Hermione drew out. "Ok. We'll see."  
  
"Good," Draco replied. "Now, it might be a good idea if we went to bed. It's almost -" a clock chimed somewhere -" it is midnight. 'Night Hermione."  
  
"Bye Draco," she said quietly. She swept out of the room, robes billowing and prefects badge shining. Draco stared after her with an expression of triumph. He'd done it!  
  
So why did he feel bad?  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning Hermione hurried down for breakfast slightly late. Great example for a Prefect to set, she thought angrily. But her attention was diverted the minute she set foot into the Great Hall. Two sights caught her eye. One was Malfoy - Draco. He wwas sitting in the middle of his huddle of Slytherins, but they didn't seem to be talking about anything in particular and nobody turned to laugh at her. Draco looked up slightly and gave her an inconspicious wink. She smiled back slightly and looked at the Gryffindor table in surprise. That had been the other thing.  
  
Every Gryffindor was bunched up against one end of the table - except one. Ron was sitting at one end of the long table, completely by himself. He looked up as Hermione passed.  
  
"Hermione, we have to talk," he said hopefully. She just kept walking. Harry had saved her a space and she slid into it gratefully.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked curiously.  
  
"What, you mean how come Ron's all by himself?" Harry replied. He grinned. "Well, none of us guys were talking to him after last night, and then Seamus told Parvati and Lavender. I told the Quidditch team, and Colin Creevey told Ginny, who told the rest of her year. It's spread pretty much like that. So the whole house knows, and I think someone told McGonagall. So she'll tell the rest of the staff."  
  
"Wow," Hermione whispered. A little voice inside her head was saying, Malfoy was right! "So - so nobody's talking to him?"  
  
"Nup," third year Dennis Creevey said excietedly. "It's starting to spread to the other houses as well. So Ron's pretty much by himself."  
  
"Hmm," she said nervously. "That'll look pretty mean, won't it? I mean, if no-one's talking to him because of me, won't it lok like I tried to get everyone on my side?"  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley almost shouted. "You can't do that! The only reason anyone would start talking to him again would be if you forgave him! You can't!"  
  
"Gee, Ok. But I'd think you'd be nicer," Hermione replied in surprise.  
  
"Nah," Ginny said proudly. "I like you better - and Harry." She laughed and Harry put an arm around her waist.  
  
Well, at least there's one happy couple, Hermione thought.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Draco stood up just as Hermione left with the rest of the Gryffindors. Pansy clutched at his arm.  
  
"Draco, where are you going?" she simpered. "I was right in the middle of telling you about my party and why you should have gone."  
  
"I'll be back in a second," he said, pulling his arm away and trying not to grimace. But ... it was Pansy. Shudder.  
  
He caught up with Hermione and pulled on the back of her robes. She turned and he caught her surprised glance before tugging her into a deserted corridor. The one that led to the kitchens.  
  
"Well?" he asked.  
  
"Well what?" she replied. "I've got to hurry, I've got transfiguration and McGonagall will kill me."  
  
"Ok. But, see, I didn't tell anyone. It was spread by the people in your house. and by the way, sucked in to Ron."  
  
Hermione was forced to believe this was true. "Not yet, but you have a whole day." she stopped, frowning thoughtfully. "But I'll tell you what. You're on trial."  
  
He felt ... grateful somehow. "Thankyou Hermione," he said, and meant it. Both ways. He was only frustrated that she didn't rush blindly into trust. But she'd made that mistake before, and wasn't about to make it again. "I'd better go."  
  
"Me too," Hermione said, and walked off, wondering if she was completely mad. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada yada...  
  
Chapter 3  
  
By the time school finished Hermione was sure she'd gone mad. What had she been thinking, becoming friends with Draco Malfoy? He was ... evil. He'd been her number one enemy since she came to Hogwarts.  
  
But on the other hand, Ron had been one of her best friends, her fiercest protector AND her boyfriend in the five and a bit years she'd known him, and he'd betrayed her. He'd found some nice little Romanian chick to take over when Hermione wasn't there. Maybe it was time she did the unbelievable. Maybe she'd gain better friends through that.  
  
Ron's exile continued throughout the day. Not a student went near him in Herbology; Ginny Weasley had told the Hufflepuffs. Not even Binns chose him to answer a question in History of Magic, McGonagall had obviously told the staff. He'd been ignored in double Transfiguration.  
  
But Potions had been the worst. He'd been ignored by the Gryffindors and Snape, surprisingly, but the Slytherins had insulted him for all they were worth. Hermione had trouble suppressing a grin as she remembered the magical hour when the Slytherins had been on her side.  
  
The end of Potions had been particularly good. After the lesson, a note had appeared in her empty cauldron. It had read simply:  
  
Classrom 9pm. You know which!  
  
It was strange that she should look forward to meeting Draco, but then, nothing had been ordinary since she got off the train. If only she'd caught it two weeks ago with the other prefects!  
  
"Are you Ok, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You look odd. You're not about to forgive Ron, are you?"  
  
"That's nice," Hermione replied in shock. "Why are you like that?"  
  
"We've all done things we're not proud of, but that's worst, the worst thing you can do. Besides, it's your honour at stake. If you talk to him, everyone will think that you have no self respect and he's the best you can do."  
  
Hermione snorted. "Yeah, right. No, I'm not going to forgive Ron anyway. How could he? That's all I want to know. And if he gave me that crap about him missing me too much, I'd -" she broke off, and pulled her wand out. "He'd better not."  
  
"O....kay. What's for dinner, I'm starving."  
  
Still, she'd love to know what actually happened, Hermione thought as she ate her steak. Not to forgive him or anything like that, but just to understand why he had been driven to... she didn't even know who.  
  
And it was getting squishy, a whole house crammed at one half of the long table. She had Harry next to her and Ginny practically on his lap (though that wasn't that bad, she supposed) and the Creevey brothers squished on her left. The rest of the Gryffindors were crammed together, and some had avoided the Dining Hall for now so they wouldn't even see Ron.  
  
But not all of them were on her side. A lot of the other students were only against Ron because they could be. It was excitement, and they wanted to share in it. They wanted to look cool, or like they cared, or whatever. Nice, she thought sarcastically.  
  
Ron. Now what could she do about him? Aha. She took her wand out of her robes, and pointed it carefully at his carroty head.  
  
"Loppearsus," she whispered. She choked on a mouthful of green beans as two long, droppy rabbit ears appeared on his head. It didn't take long for the rest of the Gryffindors to notice, and the gales of laughter attracted the other students. In a few minutes everyone was pointing and laughing. Hermione could even hear Dumbledore chuckling appreciatively.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Draco looked up in surprise when he heard the mocking laughter of the Gryffindors. It didn't take long to figure out what they were laughing at. Not with Ron dancing around like an idiot, trying to rip the long, droppy ears off the side of his skull. He wasn't managing however, but it loked like he was in a lot of pain. Draco grinned. He could add something to that!  
  
"Totalus rabbitus," he muttered, pointing his own wand. He knew Hermione had given Ron the ears, and now Ron howled with rage, pain and frustration as paws, feet, whiskers and a fluffy bobtail appeared. Draco scowled. That wasn't right. He was meant to turn into a full rabbit - oh, who cared. It was funnier this way. He loked up, and saw Hermione looking at him. He nodded slightly, and was rewarded with a smile. He grinned back. Funny he'd be happy around Hermione Granger, maybe he actually was starting to like her... no! He had to remain alof. This was all a game. And if he didn't get caught, so much the better.  
  
After fifteen minutes, when most students were holding their sides, faces red and tear streaked, Dumbledore finally decided it was time to call a halt.  
  
"Students," he shouted above the noise. "Please listen. I need a volunteer to take Mr Weasley to the Hospital Wing."  
  
Dead silence. Draco grinned. Not a single student moved.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Hermioone tried to squash her feelings of pity for the half red-head boy, half rabbit. He deserved everything he'd gotten. She knew who'd given him the rest of the "outfit". Practically the whole school would hate her for doing this, taking away their joke, the excitement that they could exploit.  
  
She began to raise her hand.  
  
"No!" Harry hissed. "Leave it. Look, McGonagall's getting up." They watched her whisper to Dumbledore, who shook his head slightly, then shrugged. She walked towards Ron, who was now trying as hard as he could to stare at his twitching nose, making him cross eyed. Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Jerk. She chuckled slightly as McGonagall led him away.  
  
Eventually the students finished their dinner, and started for bed or their common rooms. Quite a few drifted past Hermione's table.  
  
"Good stuff, Hermione!"  
  
"Excellent, girl!"  
  
"Boy, you showed him!"  
  
Hermione wasn't listening.  
  
She got up with a sigh and was just passing through the doors when - "Miss Granger."  
  
She whipped around. "Sir - Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"This way," he said, taking her arm. He led her into the little chamber off the Great Hall that Harry had entered when he was thrown into the Triwizard Tournament. Pity she wouldn't see it again, she thought. And everything had been so simple then.  
  
"Would you like to explain?" Dumbledore asked her gently. For the first time, she didn't feel overpowered by a teacher. She set her chin defiantly.  
  
"I hexed him."  
  
"I can see that," Dumbledore said seriously. "But why? By rights, you should be punished. Not only are you a prefect, you're the smartest girl in this school. You know better than to use magic outside the classes."  
  
"I know sir, but... well, it was a perfect opportunity."  
  
"To pay him back?' Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling. At her scared look, he touched her shoulder gently. "I know what's happened. Professor McGonagall told me. That wasn't the best thing he could have done."  
  
"Best?" Hermione asked indignantly. "That's worse than the worst thing anyone could do! Just because he was lonely and didn't think it would matter if my feelings got hurt, he thought he could -" she broke off in shock, tears were gathering in her eyes. She didn't feel like a prefect, or the smartest student in the school now: she felt like a little girl who was lost and unable to cope with circumstances.  
  
"I have to go," she choked, and ran out of the room. Dumbledore stared after her, frowning. Poor girl. Ronald Weasley had hurt her more than she would admit. That explained the exile, and the "rabbit" incedent, and the lack of volunteers who would take him to the Hospital Wing.  
  
But who had cast the other spell? He knew it hadn't been Hermione, her wand had been pointing at the floor. Nor would it have been just any student, it had to be a close friend. But it hadn't been been Harry or Ginny Weasley, he'd watched them.  
  
Well now, he had a mystery to solve. And by golly, he'd solve it.  
  
Hermione ran out of the Great Hall, stopping at the base of the stairs to try and catch her breath. She already regretted what had happened with Dumbledore, and it didn't help that Harry was waiting for her. She was thankful, of course, but she really really wanted to be alone at the moment. Attempting to gather her scattered wits, she walked up to him.  
  
"What did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked. Hermionje just shrugged and smiled, shooting a glance at the crowds around her in an "I'll tell you later" gesture. Harry nodded, and they started for the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
"What do you think would have happened if I caught the train with you and Ron two weeks earlier? I mean, do you think that we'd still be together, or wouldn't he have talked to me? And when did you find out that Ron - that he - well - cheated on me?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry regarded her seriously. "You know what, Hermione? I think it would have ended up the same. But you would have found out earlier. Because he wouldn't have been able to look you in the eye. Remember, once he came face to face with you, he couldn't say anything cocky? That's what it would have been like. And as for when Ron told us, he got a Howler from Mrs. Weasley the morning school started. He hid out for most of the day, until we finally pried it from him."  
  
"How?" Hermione asked curiously.  
  
"How else? Play to his ego. Once we'd convinced him we'd think it was funny - the Howler was unspecific, Mrs. Weasley was jut yelling about the way he treats people, and that he was never going to Romanioa again - with or without the family, he openeed right up. Then he thought it was funny. We were all disgusted. None of the guys are even looking at him now."  
  
"You know," Hermione said reflectively as they neared the Common Room, "maybe I should talk to him. Most of the students aren't talking to him because of me, and what kind of example am I setting for the younger years?"  
  
Harry frowned. "Well, I've known you for five and a bit years, Hermione. And I've never known you to make the wrong descision. If you think the best course of action is to talk to Ron, go for it. But think about it first. None of your friends want to see you hurt again." It was such a nice thing to say that Hermione nearly burst into tears. Instead, she managed a small smile.  
  
"Thanks." She checked her wristwatch. Eight thirty. Maybe she'd just sit in the classroom and wait for Draco. "Hey, I think I'll get some work done. I'll be in the library."  
  
"Ok," Harry said cheerfully, patting her shoulder. Hermione slapped him off, grinning. She hated it when people patted her, which was one of the main reasons Harry did it. She watched him walk off, then changed course. She knew the long way to the room, and she didn't want to be seen by any stray Gryffindors.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Draco was bored. Pansy was till managing to prattle on and on and on, and she was only three weeks into the summre. She still had another five before she'd shut up.  
  
"- and we had the best time, and my mother was talking to your father, and do you konw what they said?"  
  
She obviously expected an answer. Well, Draco wasn't going to give her one. He knew what their parents wanted. Yuck.  
  
"Actually, Pansy, I've got to do some work," he lied. She blinked and sat stone still. He could almost hear the cogs grinding in her head. Think... Pansy... think...  
  
"But you haven't gotten any homework yet," she said accusingly.  
  
"Oh, it's not schoolwork," he said quickly, standing up. He ducked out of the door, and started walking quickly for the room. He checked his watch. 9:10pm. He was late.  
  
In his hurry he didn't notice Pansy slip quietly from her seat and follow him. 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up, but I've had exams and then my computer crashed... Thankyou to anyone who's stuck by me.   
  
Forbidden, Chapter Four   
  
Hermione was already there when Draco entered. She was staring at the fire and jumped slightly as he entered. She smlied only slightly as he sat down next to her. "What's up?" he asked.   
  
"I was thinking-" she answered, "that if you're serious, this summer you'll be taking the Mark." He frowned as she finished. This summer. Ten years ago, when his father had fist shown five-year-old Draco his, it had seemed like forever until he cuold become a loyal citizen of Voldemort. Now it seemed to soon. He _was_ only fifteen after all. He still had two years at Hogwarts to go. Two years in which anyone could catch him, not that the Slytherin's would care. Hey, look! Good old Draco has the Dark MArk. Not bloody likely, he thought grimly.   
  
Hermione surveyed him seriously as he brooded. Even if he made the rash promise not to take the Mark, his father would force it on him somehow. It wasn't that hard. To her, Draco seemed flighty, and irresponsible. He valued popularity, and how many friends would he have if he was a highly ranked Slytherin without the mark? Not many. The disgrace to his family would be too great to bear. No, Draco would get the Mark. He opened his mouth to say soemthing, but Hermione cut him off.   
"Much as I'd hope you were about to say 'no, I won't take it,' we both know you will," she said unsteadily, standing up. "I can't remain friends with you then. Not only am i half Muggle, the idea of Death Eaters is abbhorent to me." She turned to leave, and caught somebody slipping out of the shadows. Whipping her wand out of her robes, she shouted, "_Stupefy_!" A muffled thump echoed from the corridor outside. Draco was beside her in a flsh.   
  
"Somebody doesn't trust one of us," he said sardonically. "And I'd say you don't trust me either, sneaking your wand up your robes. Let's find whoever this was." She followed him out to the corridor, face burning. It was true. She still didn't trust him. How anyone could be friendly to someone so quickly after hating them was beyond her. She tucked her wand back up her sleeve, and gasped.   
  
"Pansy, well well. I knew you never trusted me, but this is pathetic," Draco said to the still girl on the floor. Hermione giggled. "How do we get her inside?" he asked.   
  
"Inside?"   
  
"Well, we can't leave her out here. Got any bright ideas, or cna I drag her by the hair?"   
  
On the point of making him drag her by the hair, she heard footsteps. A boot showed at the corner. "Filch!" She hissed, and muttered "_Mobilicorpus_." Pansy drifted wierdly upward, and Dracoo laughed. They ran back to the room, Pansy followed just in time. Filch and Mrs. Norris passed straight by the doorway.   
  
"Close shave," Draco muttered. "When'd you learn that? I don't think they taught it at Hogwarts."   
  
"Learned it off a friend in our Third Year. It's also in Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, Chapter Seven. I bought the book in preeration for Seventh Year."   
  
"You already have the books for Seventh Year? And you wonder why we tease you. Well, anyway, we should wake her up now. We may have to blank her memory."   
  
"_Enervate_," Hermione said clearly. "This is a bad idea." Pansy's eyes fluttered open, and caught sight of Draco first. "Where are we?" She asked. "I followed you so I could finish my story, and then you Stunned me. I can't believe you'd do that - not to your own girlfriend."   
  
Hermione almost snorted with laughter, but Draco held a straight face. "But you're not my girlfriend, Pansy. And I didn't do it."   
  
"What?!" Pansy screeched. "You bastard! You complete, utter, wretched, useless, fucking bastard! And who did do this, then? I'll ruin them like Neville Longbottom ruins cauldrons! They'll be nothing when I'm finished with them, and neither will you, YOU ASSHOLE!"   
  
Funnily enough, to Hermione anyway, was the fact that Pansy was only angry about the fact that she wasn't Draco's girlfriend. But the reference to Neville had Hermione's blood boiling. She stood up, into Pansy's line of vision. "I did, and I'll do it again if you ever, ever say that again! Neville may not be good at potions, but he's good at other things. Unlike you, you skanky bit of trash!"   
  
Pansy just gasped. "I'm trash? What about you, you dirty Mudblood? Of course you'd know Neville's good at other things, you're probably doing him behind Potter's back! And you're probably doing _him_ behind Weasley's back! Or maybe you all join in? And you too!" she shouted, turning on Draco. You two have a nice little time, don't you? That's where you've been sneaking off to, isn't it?"   
  
Hermione was about to curse her, but Draco grabbed her arm. "Just blank her memeory," he said quietly. "It won't do any good if she goes off cursed and angry. I know her. She'll make good on her threat. Just do me one favour? Try not to let her forget she's not my girlfriend." He grinned at Hermione, who shrugged reluctantly. she still didn't think this would do any good, but Draco knew Pansy better.   
  
She held an apology in check as she pointed her wand at Pansy, who yelled. "Hey, what the hell-"   
  
"_Obliviate_!" Hermione shouted. Pansy's eyes went slack, and Draco grabbed her. "Get her outside," Hermione whispered, "Before she focuses again. Quick."   
  
"Think she forgot everything?" Draco asked. Hermione could feel the hope shining from him like a living extension of his mind - or soul, if he had one. She blushed to herself for thinking that. "I don't know," she said back quickly. "I tried my best. If she doesn't remember, break it to her again. Now go." Draco nodded and walked out, pretty much dragging Pansy - and none too gently, either. He came back a few minutes later, dusting off his hands.   
  
"All done."   
  
"Did she remember?" Hermione asked anxiously.   
  
"Who knows?" Draco asked unconcernedly. "If she doesn't, she's in for a shock. By the way," he said, shifting uncomfotably, and suddenly avoiding Hermione's eyes, "if, and this is a pretty big if, you can find a way to get me out of taking the Mark this summer, I'll do it." 


End file.
